The Photograph
by ladyvice
Summary: Mustang and Marco are dispached in Ishbal to locate and capture local doctors but Mustang's soldier instincts lead to tragedy. (Partially taken from episode 15.)


Doctors spend their lives saving others. On the battlefield, they are as important as food and water for both sides. They were just doing their jobs that day, not caring who it was they were saving. The Rockbell doctors were operating to save friend and foe alike…and he had murdered them.

The day had started out well enough, a crimson and gold sun rising just over the horizon. Roy had gotten the crazy idea that what was happening in Ishbal was going to end soon and the world would go back to normal. He and the other alchemists had been called in not long ago to help. Apparently, the military was hoping to use them to bring a quicker end to the uprising and rightfully so. If it were left up to the regular foot soldiers, the fighting would continue for another three or four years and many more lives would be lost. It had to end quickly and the state alchemists had to end it.

One of the main problems seemed to be that someone was treating the rebel fighters of Ishbal with a great deal of talent. If a man wasn't killed by the military's bullet or an alchemist's skill, he was back in just a few days with only a few remnants of the injury. There was never any end to them and as long as there were foolish doctors treating them, there never would be. And so the order was issued to find and capture all the doctors of Ishbal.

It was difficult and took several days to round them all up. Those that wouldn't come with the military peacefully were subdued. On the third day, Mustang and Marco were ordered to search a certain block of the city. There was a rumor that two doctors were hiding there. Without question or a second thought, the two of them set out.

From the beginning, Marco was wearing a worried expression. Mustang had seen him like that more often than not lately. "What's wrong, Tim?"

The other man raised his head slightly at the mention of his name. "Its this whole damn war."

"It won't be long now before its all over."

"Its just that I'm not sure we should be here."

Roy came to a stop and turned back to his companion. "Why not? If we hadn't stepped in, there would be years of fighting left."

"How many people have you killed, Mustang?" The question caught the younger man by surprise and his jaw dropped. "Enough to know that this isn't right? Us stepping in like this. This isn't a war anymore. It's a massacre and we're the ones doing all the killing. We're not men anymore. We're murderous beasts…"

"Maybe the military shouldn't have stepped in here at Ishbal…"Mustang started. "But they did and there's nothing either of us can do to change that. All we can do is try to bring this to a quick end. I don't like to take lives any more than you do but tell me what I'm supposed to do when I'm staring down the barrel of a loaded gun? What do I do when its kill or be killed?"

"For that, I have no answer." Marco replied quietly.

"This way!" Both men jumped suddenly at the sound of approaching voices. They had almost forgotten they were standing in the middle of a war zone where anyone wearing their uniform was the enemy. Before they could react two men appeared around the alley corner and opened fire.

Mustang positioned his fingers for a snap that would give him the spark he needed. Marco suddenly grabbed him and pulled him through a side door. "Marco!" Mustang growled pulling away from the other man.

"There's no time." Marco said. "Let's go." Mustang followed the Crystal Alchemist without protest through a second door and out into another alley. It felt wrong to be running from rebels he normally would have set fire to and then…it also felt right. After several twists and turns into dim alleys, Marco pulled Mustang into another building and the two stood there for a moment catching their breath.

"We can't…run forever." Mustang realized aloud. "We'll have to face them eventually. Besides, we were ordered to kill any and all guerillas that opened fire on us."

"Are you a human being first, Roy, or a soldier?"

Roy had only a moment to ponder the question before he heard footsteps behind him. _They must have followed us…_ He turned quickly, drawing his side arm as he turned. He fired two shots and then froze, the blood draining from his head as he stood there, staring into the eyes of an unarmed man and woman. The woman fell first, blood dripping from the bullet hole in her head but the man just stood there, staring blankly at him. His second bullet had embedded itself in his chest, more than likely making a nice sized hole in her lung causing him to suffocate to death painfully.

After a few moments, the man reached into his pocket. Roy automatically assumed he was reaching for a concealed weapon and in an instant panic fired several more rounds at her. He fell to the floor, splattered with his own blood, his hand still in her pocket.

Neither of the two alchemists spoke as Roy knelt down next to him. He searched the pocket he had been reaching into and found not a gun nor a knife but a carefully preserved photograph of a little, blonde haired girl.

His hands began to shake as he dropped the picture and slowly rose to his feet. He'd killed two unarmed people…He was reaching of a photo…not a weapon! As Roy stood there, frozen in horror at the act that he had just committed, several more people entered the room. He vaguely heard Marco greet Col. Gran and a few others but it was as if it was all happening in a dream. It couldn't be real.

"Good work, Mustang. We were looking for these doctors." Gran said.

"Good work? Doctors? Col. Gran! What is the meaning of this!" Marco was asking.

"This place was a communication center for the Ishbal Remnants. The doctors worked with them."

"All they wanted to do was save as many people was possible."

"The lives they save eventually kill my men."

The next twelve hours were a blur to Mustang. All he could think of was that photograph. It was boring a hole in his brain. That night, he returned to the scene, a bottle of sake in hand. It was completely empty by the time Marco showed up and Mustang still couldn't forget. He wanted to cry but what good would that do? Marco's question suddenly came back to him. Are you a human being first, Roy, or a soldier? What they were doing there…it wasn't human. It was a massacre and he was ashamed to be a part of it. That picture…all he could think of was that damn picture! He wanted to make it stop, make the image of that unarmed couple fade away. He took his side arm from its holster and pressed the cold metal of the barrel against his neck. I deserve to die…

"Don't." Came Marco's harsh voice. Surprised, Mustang turned to see his friend standing behind him. How much had he seen? "You just followed orders. I am responsible for this. They were doctors like me and saved lives but I…"

"What should I do?" Mustang asked him, knowing he wouldn't be satisfied with whatever answer Marco gave him.

"Can you not say anything and let me go?" the doctor said suddenly. Roy looked up, suddenly noticing the two suitcases in Marco's hands. "You said we couldn't run forever. Maybe we don't have to run forever. Just for a little while. I need to disappear and try to make up for everything that's happened here." Marco's eyes moved past the younger man to the stain on the floor. "I can't bring back all the people we killed, Roy, but I can keep others alive. I still have my skills as a doctor."

"You asked me if I was a human being first or a soldier." Roy started. "I don't really have an answer for that. But what I did today wasn't human."

Marco dropped one of his suitcases to the ground and extended his right hand. "Then be a soldier, Roy." Mustang took the good doctor's hand. "But don't forget you're also human."

"Excuse me…" a woman's voice startled Mustang from his memories. He looked up to see a young woman with long, blonde hair standing in front of his desk holding a single suitcase. "I'm looking for Edward Elric. I was told to see you…"

"He's not here right now." Mustang replied rising from his seat. "But I can give him a message. Who can I tell him stopped by?"

"Winry…" the young woman said with a smile. "Winry Rockbell." Mustang's face turned white at the sound of her name. All he could think of was the little girl in the photograph so many years ago…


End file.
